


Sleep Tight, Little Altus

by rinskiroo



Series: A Forgotten Star [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Gen, Spy Stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9878735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinskiroo/pseuds/rinskiroo
Summary: Euli Avedis, freshly discharged from the Republic military, struggles with finding her place in a post-war galaxy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes when I hit a roadblock, I write little drabbles about characters. This was one of those.

**Chandrila, Eight Years After the Battle of Yavin**

 

Before her finger hit the chime on the door of the towering Chandrilan apartment, the entrance slid open revealing a man in his mid-thirties.  Despite his nearly permanent hard-set features, he was classically handsome with a strong jaw line, close-cropped dark hair, and piercing green eyes with flecks of gold.  It had always bothered Euli that he knew exactly when she’d approach the door and never gave her a chance to ring properly, but it was to be expected in their family.  Of course, once he had discovered it rankled her Alderaanian sensibilities, he had made it a point to be the obnoxious Outer Rim clodhopper, as she’d called him once or twice. (Though he was as much a child of the Core as she.)  With a sigh, Euli thrust her token of thanks, a fine bottle of Hosnian Red, at him.

“Wine?  Seems a bit inappropriate.  Looks like I’m not the only one with bad manners.”  He smirked and stepped aside, letting her across the threshold.  “This a nice find, though.”

Euli shrugged and slipped off her jacket and scarf; it had started to grow cooler in the northern hemisphere of the planet.  It was what Euli liked about the place—that it had rotating seasons much the same as Alderaan.  “I figured if I came up to Castle Alde I had to bring something nice.  Plus, you paid for it.”

He watched her as she found the spot to hang her things, the nearly-feigned animosity fading slightly.  “You look good, Avs.”

“Yeah, I guess freedom suits me.”  She stood awkwardly for a moment, her fingers hooking into the pockets of her trousers and she struggled with showing him gratitude.  “Thanks, again.”

“She’d do anything for you, and I’d do anything for her.”

“Is she here?”  a feminine voice called from across the large apartment, rushing as quickly as she could towards the pair of them.  She was tall with long blonde hair pulled back into a loose braid; the most noticeable feature about her though was the large swell of her stomach, heavy with child.  “Stop giving her a hard time, Zanda!  If Miriam were here she’d have us all quoting from the Queen’s Book of… whatever.”  Euli nearly opened her mouth to provide the title of the book of etiquette her sister was referencing, but stopped as the woman threw her arms around her as well as she could with the plump curve of her abdomen between them.  “I’m so happy you came over.”

“Two words: crab legs.”

Amira chuckled as she let go of Euli and ran a hand across her dark hair.  “You cut it?  Yourself?  I can give you the number to—“

Euli forced a smile and took her sister’s hand, pulling it away from her head and squeezing gently.  “I just got tired of it and cut it, no big deal.  You’ve done enough for me.”

“But it’s all uneven…”  Amira frowned, her words trailing off.  It wasn’t just the ragged self-grooming or the fact that she had to be coerced over to visit.  Ever since the trial, Euli had been distant and evasive.  More than once Amira had to fish her out of some disgusting bar; once she responded to a security officer’s call that someone had been sleeping in their speeder outside the Republic Academy’s practice airfield for two days.

“EuliEuliEuliEuli!!”  came the squealing cry of a little boy dashing across the floor through the apartment.  He stopped suddenly just in front of her, his pale cheeks flushed and his blue eyes smiling as he lifted his hand up to his forehead and gave her a salute.

Euli winced and then forced out another grin before crouching down in front of the boy.  “You don’t have to salute me, kid.”  The boy’s grin fell slightly as he enjoyed playing soldiers with his aunt, but she lunged at him and scooped him up into her arms to tickle him mercilessly.  “Tell me your secrets, little spy!  Where have you hidden the cookies?!”

“I don’t want to be a spy!”  the boy managed to squeal out between gasping laughs.  The giggling continued even after she had deposited him in his seat at the table.

It was a pleasant enough family meal, despite being the first time all four of them had been together since Euli’s release.  Euli and Amira’s husband managed to not passive aggressively pick each other apart, mostly because of the five-year-old jabbering on about all of the interesting things that went on in a child’s life.  Amira offhandedly commented on the recent proposal to move the Senate, and the new buildings they were erecting on Hosnian Prime in their bid for the Capital.  Euli and Zanda both rolled their eyes and sneered as it was likely the only topic they agreed on—Coruscant was the Capital of the Republic and it damn well should have stayed that way.

Euli leaned on her hand and smiled at her nephew who, in an attempt to stave off going to bed, had started telling a story they all knew quite well.  It was the story of how his parents had met, and how Amira had met Euli, but the youngster hadn’t quite yet picked up on the truth of the details.  It was the story of how a young spy in over his head and badly injured had found passage on a ship and how the ship had been stopped by an Imperial boarding party.  The spy, too injured to carry on alone, saved the Captain’s daughter and his mission.

“’The Red Pawn is out.  I’m going sailing.  I am the messenger, go to Alderaan, find Avedis.’”

Zanda leaned towards his wife, his lips pressing against her shoulder.  Saying nothing, but conveying that every day he was thankful she had made it to Alderaan; that they both had made it to the other side of the War safely.

“And did she find Avedis?”  Euli asked, a proud grin on her face.

“Yes!  She found Grandpa Altus!  And saved the Rebellion.”

The adults laughed at the boy’s interpretation of the events.  Euli especially loved hearing the boy’s retelling and the joy shown on her face.

“And the most important part of that story?”  his father prompted.

The glowing smile fell away from young Altus’ face as he stated solemnly,  “That it’s private.”

Amira offered a small smile to her son and nodded reassuringly.  “Some secrets keep us safe.”

The boy turned towards his aunt, his eyes wide once more.  “Did Grandpa Altus have secrets?”

Euli watched him thoughtfully for a moment.  She didn’t understand why so many of Amira and Zanda’s secrets still had to be kept, and why they had put their young son in the middle of it—made him party to their web.  She supposed it couldn’t be helped now, and she knew they always acted out of the need to keep him safe—to keep them all safe.  “Yes, he did.  He worked with the Rebellion.  I didn’t even know it until long after he died.”

“Force rest his soul,”  Zanda offered with quiet sincerity.

There was a sharp clattering as the fork Euli was holding hit the plate.  Her expression had changed from the wistful remembrance to practically a snarl.  “When has the Force given anyone here any rest?”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence until Zanda pushed away from the table and collected Altus from his chair.  From over his father’s shoulder, the boy gave Euli a sad little wave as he was carried to the back rooms of the apartment, to his bath and bed, leaving the two women alone at the table.  Euli ran a hand across her face and then leaned back in her chair, taking a long drink from her glass of wine.  With a sigh, Amira stood and began clearing the table, dragging out the motions to give her sister a chance to settle.

“Where does he get off bringing up my father like that?  Acting like he knew him?”

“The boy was just telling the story, Euli,”  Amira answered calmly, but she had grown tired of having to play peacekeeper between the pair of them.  “He’s just thankful for what Altus did for me.”

Euli was still scowling when Amira retook her seat.  Her expression and tone of voice had altered slightly to one of something more official sounding,  “I’m going to again state for the record that I am against this course of action.  If you were an agent of mine I would declare you unfit for duty.  And if ever I were questioned directly I would say that you took advantage of our friendship and stole this information from me.”

Euli practically snorted as she leaned forward and reached for the datapad Amira had brought out but hadn’t yet slid over to her.  “I’m doing it anyway.”

“Which is why I’ll still be your handler, unofficially.”  Amira picked the datapad back up before Euli could grab it and walked towards the transparisteel doors that led out to the balcony.  With an exaggerated sigh, Euli refilled her glass and followed her sister outside.  Despite making him keep some of their secrets, Amira didn’t want her job to find her son’s ears.  And while the inside of the apartment was more secure, the wind whipping around the tall urban building in Chandrila’s capital district would make it difficult for even amplified listening devices.

“There are a lot of names on this list…”  Euli stated after a stunned moment of scrolling through the datapad that had finally been handed over.  “It just keeps going.”

Amira gave a sullen nod.  “That’s not complete either.  There’s no way to know how many more were just unreported or forgotten.”  She leaned back in her chair amidst their tiny balcony garden.  There was a small table with a pair of chairs that they now occupied surrounded by raised beds and pots holding all manner of flowering plants.  On the ground were scattered a few toys, forgotten and left to fade in the sun.  “The ships that attacked Ossus, the cloaking technology used—it’s a lead, not a good one, but about all I could find on short notice.”

There was a long silence as Euli stared down at the screen in front of her.  “Do you want to know what happened?”

They had never talked about it.  If Euli confessed to Amira what had happened, she would have to admit to that if she was called to testify—which she had been.  Not that Amira’s testimony had at all been illuminating for the court martial; many of the questions she refused to answer citing ongoing security missions and others she evaded telling the entire truth.  It was a skill so honed and practiced, Euli wondered if Amira believed the lies she told _were_ the truth.  The only person she had told an entire accounting to was her advocate and only because Amira had begged her to help herself.  What had happened in the skies above Ossus had been buried.  A surprisingly easy coverup as it had become such a black mark on the New Republic.  Senator Donam, the one pursuing charges, cared little for what had actually happened and more about how one unstable pilot had disfigured his face.  The whole thing was a sad, torturous, embarrassing mess.

“If you’re looking for absolution, I’m not the one you have to tell, Avs.  And you will have to talk to him, sooner or later.”

“And do what?  Ask for his blessing?”  Euli nearly sneered with her sharp response, but her lips twisted back downwards, fighting the prickling behind her eyes.  She would have begged for forgiveness, thrown herself at his mercy for what she had done, but there were no words in any language to convey the guilt or shame she felt.

Amira just sighed.  They had all given Euli space when it came to the Force, all except Lumar.  He was her CO for years, knew her in the way only flight commanders knew their pilots, in the way that pushed them to be their best, to win at any cost.  The time for pretending that the Force had not deeply influenced Euli’s path was gone.  If she were to take on this incredibly dangerous mission, she would need help beyond what Amira could offer.

Instead of giving any sort of commitment to reaching out to Luke Skywalker, Euli asked another question,  “Who will I be in contact with when the baby comes?”

“Me, hopefully.  They tell me the second one is easier.”  She grinned and shrugged her shoulders in a way that conveyed she would literally have to be in labor for her to stop working, and even then she’d probably still be clutching her datapad.  The RCS had taken her out of the field once she started showing.  She of course hadn’t told them until it became obvious, reminding everyone she’d seen to the Liberation of Coruscant while pregnant with Altus.

As if on cue, the transparisteel door slid open and Zanda stepped out onto the now crowded balcony.

“And if for some reason I can’t, Zanda is also pretty good at this sort of thing.”

Euli scoffed,  “Let a birdwatcher handle _this_ mission?”

Zanda barely bristled, but his eyes glared at her darkly,  “Leave it to scum with wings to not know the difference between ISB and Military Intelligence.”

“That is enough!”  Amira stated forcefully, nearly knocking over her chair as she pushed herself to her feet.  It seemed she had finally had enough of their snide back and forth.

But Zanda wasn’t done,  “Thank you for reminding my wife why we all can’t go back to using our real names.  If her own sister still doesn’t believe that what I did—“

“You sold us out!  Rebels died on your order!”  Euli shot back at him.

“I did what I had to!  _Pawns_ are sacrificed to win wars!”

Amira stepped between them because while her husband could be cold and stoic, Euli was hot and quick to the trigger.  But Euli just stood there, swallowing back her anger.  It was the way he had said it, ‘pawns.’  Zanda had been a pawn, the Red Pawn, and a sacrifice had been made to ensure Amira and the precious list stolen from the Jedi Archives made it to Alderaan.

“Alec, please…”  Amira said quietly, barely audible.  She rarely spoke his real name and it sounded so wistful on her lips, as if she had missed the sound of it.  In this moment, she needed him to stand down.  In her own way, Euli was still grieving, and while Amira often gave her sister far more leave than she ever deserved, they all needed to remember they were still on the same side.

“No,”  Euli said, shaking her head.  “I’m sorry.  I’ll work with Zanda.  I’m going to say goodnight to Altus and just go.  I’ll call you later.”

Amira reached for her sister, but Euli shrugged her off, retreating back into the warmth of the apartment.  The couple stayed outside, Zanda wrapping his arms around his wife and holding her close.

Inside Altus’ room with its pale green curtains blocking out the city lights and toys pushed haphazardly against the walls, Euli found the brightly colored child’s datapad and tried to find a suitable bedtime story.  However, it seemed every tale she came across was not the sort of one she wished to read or impart on her young nephew.  The parable of the farmer was euphuism for the Force.  The story of the brave X-Wing pilots made her nauseous.  The one about the young student visiting the new Galactic Senate made her want to chuck the datapad at the wall.  Perhaps reading his aunt’s discomfort, Altus scooted closer to where she sat on the bed.  In his arms was clutched a rather ugly effigy of a manka cat, its once creamy exterior now a dull grey from being dragged every place a boy of five would go.  One of its ears looked like it had been chewed on rather extensively.

“Tell me a story about Grandpa Altus?”  The boy loved hearing the stories of his namesake and while most were told with reverence to the facts, the ones who sung his songs were unashamedly biased.  His daughters, one of blood and one of duty, saw no fault in the character of Altus Avedis.  While there were stories of his wife, his love, Miriam Ristoust, and his sons, Sion and Darvil, the tales of the soldier, the peacekeeper, the clandestine freedom fighter, always drew the widest smiles.

Euli pulled the blanket up around Altus and his mangy toy.  In hushed tones, she recanted the stories she could remember her father telling her about being a young mechanic in the Clone Wars.  About how his remote base became pinned down by a regiment of battle droids and it took every pilot, every soldier, every cadet, even the maintenance droids to fight off the attack.  They held their ground until the soldiers of the Grand Army of the Republic arrived.  Euli couldn’t bring herself to call them troopers; didn’t want to think of how those suits of armor had gone from that of an ally to that of an enemy.  And they took the fight to the Seps and won the day.

“Can I tell Grandpa Altus’ stories to the baby if you’re not here?”  Altus asked sleepily.

Euli ran her hand over the boy’s face, pushing his hair away from his eyes.  Her throat was tight and her eyes burned with tears she was fighting back.  She would miss this boy; she had missed his birth and infancy as the War had still been in full swing until Jakku.  Even afterwards, the fighting still didn’t seem to stop, not entirely.  Euli was fairly certain she’d seen more of the boy in the months since Ossus than the rest of his short life.  And now she would miss the birth of his sister, miss helping out their mother which was a sisterly duty as any.  “Of course, it’s part of your job as big brother.  You’ll have to tell her all sorts of things, but remember to always be kind and even if you don’t get along, you must always love each other.”

Euli wasn’t certain if he had heard a word she said for now the boy was fast asleep.  She leaned over and gave him a kiss to his forehead before standing up and turning down the lights.  They would see each other again.  Some day.


End file.
